Lucid Insanity
by Swythangel
Summary: An assassin saves his enemy from suicide in a chance encounter. Both are floundering in a darkness of their own making. Will they find their redemption in each other?


Author: Swythangel Author: Swythangel   
Email: swythangel@hotmail.com   
Title: Lucid Insanity   
Type: Series   
Teaser: An assassin saves his enemy from suicide in a chance encounter. Both are floundering in a darkness of their own making. Will they find their redemption in each other?   
Rating: PG –13 (to be safe…)   
Spoilers: Itsy bitsy past of one of the Schwartz members, just a teensy tiny bit.   
Warnings: Shonen Ai, AU, a lil touchy on religion ^^   
Disclaimer: Weiß Kreuz is not mine…Schwartz is not mine…I am just obeying my compulsion to write or go insane. Restrain me and have the guilt on your head ahohoho!   
Keywords: You'll see ^^ Though if you know me well enough you know who at least one of them is ^^ 

I know I have a ton of fics to finish but I needed to do this. I really did. Don't kill me. Its one of the pairings I love to read about. Sadly there isn't that much fics about them.

Ah well, I hope this is alright? ^^ 

****

Lucid Insanity   
****Part 1 

**_~*~*~* "You have been tried on the judgement stand and was found wanting." *~*~*~_**

In the silent shadows of darkness, beyond the reach of the harsh sunlight, everything…everyone is the same. There is no holy man or whore, no saint or sinner. Everyone is drenched in the indistinct greyness of anonymity that defines the night. 

In this greyness, we all have a choice. Be the predators who stalk the streets and make them our own or be the victims who cower in fear in the corner, praying to a God to save them. 

I chose the former, as did he. If you could call it a choice. Assassins, they call us. Those who roam the streets at night intent on our own business, killing without compunction and guilt. 

He protests. 

I am not surprised. 

He *would* protest. In his mind's eye he sees what he does as protecting the innocent. A necessary evil to pave the way for a brighter future. 

Each kill is a blight on his soul, a heavy guilt-laden burden that threatens to drag him down into the depths of whatever godforsaken hellhole his mind is conjuring up. 

So certain is he that he has damned himself in front of God's eyes. 

How it festers in his soul, this guilt, confusing him, hurting the sensitive core that makes him human. Until it drives him to this. 

Poor Weiß. 

He is surprised. Actually surprised that I am sane enough to perceive his thoughts and come up with an answer that is so close to the truth that he flinches from it. 

I do not need Schuldich to tell me. I know what is running inside his head. He is thinking how can a madman like me glean so much in a space of a heartbeat. 

Ah, Weiß. You underestimate me, like all the others before you, even as Bradley has, and Schuldich. Or even Nagi. All you ever see is the ravaged face and eerie deranged eyes. The constant stream of thought that comes out as a single-minded determination to "hurt God". 

I am more than that. 

Do not cower. I will not hurt you. At least, not yet…I did not save you to kill you just yet. 

Why did you save him?>> 

Why indeed. I should have let him die, I suppose. 

I should have just watched as he climbed to the roof of the towering skyscraper, the dangerous intent in his eyes. 

I should have silently stood by while he stood on the precipice of death like a fledgling bird out to try out his wings for the first time, viewed the acceptance in his eyes as gravity embraced his body and he starts to freefall. Hear the sickening crunch as his body kisses the pavement with resounding force. 

And, finally, see the light fade from his vibrant eyes as his body lies in an impossible angle, body and mind broken from the burden that life has placed on him. 

It would have made my life simpler. One less Weiß to worry about should Schwartz ever encounter them again. 

Then why did you save him?>> 

I was at the right place at the right time. 

Why?>> 

Because. 

That is not a reason.>> 

You forget, I am referred to as a madman, a certified basketcase. I do not need logical reasons to do what I want. 

Your crutch again. Why must you always use it as a shield.>> 

It is not a shield nor a crutch. It is reality. I *am* insane. 

Only because you choose to be.>> 

Just as you choose to be meddlesome? 

Others call it deep love.>> 

I call it meddling. 

But before the voice in my head can respond, he stirs on the floor. 

"What are you thinking?" 

He is curious. This Weiß. That is a good sign. It means he is still sane enough to live. 

"I am not thinking so much as talking." 

"Talking to yourself?" He lifts an eyebrow in mild skepticism. Not surprise, after all it is expected of me. Mad Farfarello. I can almost see that phrase running in his head. 

I shrug. Yes, I am mad. But not mad enough not to notice that he is clutching at this conversation in desperation. 

"To God." 

"God? You talk to God?" The disbelief on his face is almost comical in its intensity, as is the sputtering sound that gargles up from his throat. 

I could have told you he would not believe you.>> 

Feh. I know that but I tell the truth. Always. 

"How can you talk to God? How can He want to talk to you when you always spout off about hurting Him? 

A good question. Why *do* you talk to me? 

It beats talking to fawning people who do not have anything else to say but insincere flattery. Call it a quirk.>> 

I tell the brown-eyed assassin that. And he laughs. 

"God with a quirk. Interesting." 

I am surprised by his reaction. I would have thought that he above all the others would be one of those straight Christians, the ones who would rant at my so-called sacrilege and blasphemy against their Saviour. 

He is refreshing to say the least. And pure. One of the rare few. If only he would learn to let go.>> 

You don't plan to make me your angel of mercy are you? Because I am not nor will I ever be. Your presence in my mind is only tolerated as it is. 

Perish the thought.>> 

Good. 

"Why do you always want to hurt God?" 

He is meddlesome, this naïve looking lad who can almost pass off as boy-next-door, until one meets him in the dark and gets acquainted with his dangerous bugnuks. 

Just like you. 

I will take that as a compliment.>> 

But no, he is no naïve boy. He is an assassin, proven by the blood of his countless victims in battle. 

Hurt God. Yes, I suppose everyone wants to know. But no one understands. 

Schuldich once tried to pry the answer from my mind but all he saw was the scarlet and black waves that lashed about day and night inside my head, buffeting sanity into an indistinguishable pulp. 

He knew that my mother had been a nun. How she palmed me off to another and tried to keep it secret. When I found out, I killed my mother. And thereafter started on this path to hurt God. 

Schuldich reckoned that drove me over the edge. He deemed me just a touch insane and left it at that. 

He did not understand. 

If Schuldich, who had been in a situation akin to mine, who had experienced the same atrocities, could not understand, then how could this boy? 

He would not understand. 

Give him a chance.>> 

"Give me a chance." 

Chance? What is chance to me save a crutch the weak use when they cannot do it right the first time. If I give this one a chance, will he be able to unravel what it is I hunger for? Why I do what I do? 

Why not? He has the capacity for understanding.>> 

You are supposed to be omniscient. Do you not know? 

Omniscient does not mean blabbing the secrets of the Universe to everyone, even to Irish madmen.>> 

Aa, point well taken. 

"Why?" I shoot out at the boy before me. 

"Nani?" 

"Why?" I ask again. "Why should I and why do you want to?" Even the insane need their reasons. 

A curious light enters his eyes. And he smiles a rictus of a grin more fit for my own face than his. "Because you have nothing else to do and besides you owe me." 

I blink incredulously, a dangerous glint entering my eyes as I draw two knives from their sheaths to advance towards the Weiß. 

Owe him? What do I owe this slip of a boy except for his death? 

"Exactly." He says softly. 

He reads the answer in my eyes. It seems that I am not the only one who can glean thoughts through glances. 

"You owe me this time Schwartz." 

Owe you? I can readily slash your throat right here and now and end this preposterous situation once and for all. 

"Then do it." 

He spreads his arms wide and throws back his head, exposing a slender throat. It is magnetic to say the least. Easy kill. 

But why would the Weiß boy do it? 

I have learned the hard way long ago that nothing Weiß did should be taken at face value. They have the most infernal luck that causes them to come up smelling like roses even in the most fucked up situations. 

So what is in store for this one? 

A good point to think about… 

I will give him a chance then. Three nights I will talk to him. He will be allowed to ask questions that I will answer. By the end of the third night, he needs to know the answer to his question. Or else. 

You need to understand that as everything in this world has a price, a chance will cost you something. Are you willing to pay it? 

"Tell me what the price will be." 

I shrug. 

I haven't decided yet. But rest assured that whatever it is I decide will not contain any hope for release on your part. 

Such is the price of failure. 

So harsh.>> 

What he asks is not merely an answer to why I hurt God. The very question strikes at my very core. To know why I hurt God is to know who I am. Such a thing deserves a high price. 

I am Farfarello. 

I say it like it is suppose to explain everything. And in its way, it does. It is a name I took for myself the day I shed off 'Jie'. It is all that I am. 

Is it?>> 

Yes. Jie was weak. He has no place in me. 

So you say.>> 

It is truth. I maybe insane but I always tell the truth. Always. 

"So do you accept, Weiß?" 

He nods, quickly. Too quickly for my liking. 

Maybe the price is not as harsh as I though it was. 

"But in return, I ask also for one thing should I unravel the mystery." 

You dare to even ask when it is by your request that I am giving you this chance. 

His chin juts out at a stubborn angle. 

"Hear me out. What have you got to lose?" 

My humor reasserts itself. Aa, why not? So what does the little boy want? 

"Death. My death. If I can unravel the reason, grant me a clean death by your hand." 

Surprise. 

This is the second time he surprises me for this night. And there isn't much that surprises me anymore. That is good. I smile. This may well prove to be entertaining after all. 

If you can find out who and why I am then your life's blood will adorn my knives in sweet rivulets before the sun touches the horizon on the third day. No excuses, no second chances. 

I slash my arm and do the same to him, laying both of them side by side, one a healthy tan and one eerily pale, allowing the blood to mix. 

Blood pact. A promise made through a shedding of one's life's blood can never be taken lightly. Or at least that's what it would have been to the clans a long time ago in the islands where I was born. It suits me now to do something like this. 

And even if one Japanese boy does not know of such a tradition, I am sure that he can at least sense the importance of such an act. He will honor the agreement. As will I. 

And so it begins.>> 

TBC ^_~ Comments onegai? This is what happens when I'm in a slump. 

Its new and I'm not so sure it fits the Farfie in your minds. But Farfie isn't insane to me so…^^ 

The plotline is loosely related to Rumpelstiltskin if you guys haven't noticed ^-^ Though I'm pretty sure it isn't going to end like Rumpelstiltskin. ^^ 

Last Note: I am not poking fun of religion or God.I happen to be Christian ^^ Please keep an open mind.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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